Nothing is Easily Understood
by slothattack
Summary: After the war with Aizen, everything is returning to normal. Or almost everything. Grimmjow/Shuuhei angst.


Shuuhei passed through the door of the Urahara Shop, ignoring the shopkeeper's eerie grin. He headed straight for the hidden latch that led to the basement. He jumped down, landing easily on the dusty ground.

The nature of this activity became so usual that Shuuhei stopped thinking of the consequences. All the employees of the shop must have known what happened in the basement, but most of them weren't the types to meddle in the business of others and Urahara had no reason to report Shuuhei's behavior since he probably found the entire situation interesting. At this point Shuuhei didn't care if anyone found him repulsive. He had plenty of self-disgust to go around and he needed to vent it on _something_ or go insane.

Shuuhei stood up and brushed the dirt off his uniform. He heard a snicker. He looked up and saw the blue-haired arrancar perched on a tall rock.

"After everything we do, you're _still_ obsessed with cleanliness."

Shuuhei didn't respond and instead walked further into the training area. A soft thud and footsteps trailed behind him. Shuuhei didn't need to search the area to know no one besides them was there. He turned around, only to come face-to-face with a large jaw bone. He glared at the obstruction.

"Do you not know what personal space is?" Shuuhei snapped. Being in this basement always put Shuuhei into an uncharacteristic bad mood. There was another smirk as Shuuhei was shoved into the rock behind him. He felt hands wandering up and down his sides. "Grimmjow," Shuuhei warned, but both of them knew it wasn't much of a threat.

The arrancar's hair was a shocking blue and he had even brighter eyes. The first time Shuuhei had seen him, a chill ran down his spine. He hadn't been sure why, but he had liked the way that shiver felt. After that, Shuuhei's gaze always seemed to follow that arrancar.

When they had first met, it was six months after Aizen's defeat. Soul Society was returning to normal and the 9th division had a new, charismatic, and very capable captain. If Shuuhei hadn't been confident that everything would be alright in his absence, he never would have agreed to the mission in the real world. Hence, Shuuhei's trust had landed him in the basement of the Urahara Shop, staring at the arrancar.

Even after Aizen had been defeated, there had still been remnants of his army scattered around Hueco Mundo. Grimmjow, who had been captured on the battle field, agreed to help the Shinigami track down the remaining arrancar in exchange for his survival. Since Hueco Mundo was pretty big and Grimmjow knew the place like the back of his hand, the Shinigami had accepted. Shuuhei couldn't figure out why Grimmjow would disgrace himself by aiding his former enemies and having his life spared by them. From what he had heard, Grimmjow was a very proud and arrogant arrancar. Shuuhei had once thought to ask him, but neither of them ever had the opportunity for questions. Though in the end, that didn't matter. The important thing was that a reiatsu repressed Grimmjow was in the human world since no one wanted him in Soul Society.

Shuuhei had been sent down into Karakura to make sure everything was running smoothly. He had not been pleased when he found out babysitting an ill-tempered arrancar was on his list of jobs. However, a few weeks after they first met, neither of them could have been more physically acquainted with the other.

Shuuhei had always associated hollows with numbness and cold, but the hands touching him were smoldering against his skin. He closed his eyes and just felt the lines being traced across his arms, shoulders and chest. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against Grimmjow's neck. He inhaled the scent, which smelled of blood and sweat, then licked across the collar bone. He worked his way back and when he reached the junction between neck and shoulder, he bit down. Hard. Grimmjow growled and pushed Shuuhei roughly back against the rock. The jagged texture of the rock dug into his back. The pain was welcome for the both of them.

Shuuhei didn't have time to retaliate before Grimmjow smashed their lips together. The kiss was violent, forceful, and unrelenting. Teeth clashed and both of them fought for dominance. Shuuhei threw himself into the act, wanting to taste more of the distinct flavor that was Grimmjow. Something about the taste and smell of Grimmjow sent his body wild; it was a welcome stress reliever.

Grimmjow sucked on Shuuhei's tongue, just hard enough to cause pain. Shuuhei couldn't stifle a moan as his hair was grabbed and his head yanked back to expose his throat. Grimmjow nipped down his neck, causing Shuuhei to tremble. His breathing was coarse and he dragged his nails along Grimmjow's chest. Grimmjow hissed, grinding himself against Shuuhei.

Grimmjow's hands snaked around his back and dipped down to grasp Shuuhei's ass. His fingernails dug into the flesh. Grimmjow smirked and jerked his hands towards the center, making Shuuhei gasp. Shuuhei heard a chuckle as Grimmjow's teeth tugged on his ear. He growled, irritated, and shoved his hand between Grimmjow's legs, giving his groin a hard, almost painful squeeze. Grimmjow snarled, grabbing Shuuhei harshly by the neck.

"_You_ asked for it," Grimmjow spat before callously flipping Shuuhei around so his stomach as shoved against the rock. He tore Shuuhei's hakama down, baring him.

Grimmjow pressed his body against his and Shuuhei could feel the heat smothering him. He panted against the cold rock, gripping at the uneven surface. Grimmjow barely prepared Shuuhei before he thrust inside him.

It was painful, brutal, and Shuuhei couldn't imagine it any differently. He closed his eyes and focused on the feeling of being driven into. He pushed himself back against Grimmjow, inciting a groan from both of them. Shuuhei was on fire.

It was over quickly and both of them slumped onto the dirt, completely exhausted. Shuuhei was still gasping for breath as Grimmjow fixed his own clothing.

As the haze wore off, Shuuhei slowly came back to the reality of him sprawled over the ground, his entire body aching. He stared at a small mountain in the distance.

How many times had he done this by now? He would always return to that basement to get his mind and self-hatred blown away when the disgust became too much. Ever since he had felt his own zanpakuto run through the body of his captain, there was almost never an instant when he couldn't feel the blood drip down his hands and the excitement that had washed over him. For the longest time Shuuhei had repressed the violence he knew lurked within him and after he killed Tousen, he could no longer keep the darkness at bay. The thrill of bloodlust wormed its way into him whenever he touched his sword. Even when he was unarmed, his hand itched for his weapon.

He hated it.

Grimmjow was the perfect distraction. Whenever he felt as though he was going to explode from the repulsion, he looked for the arrancar. Afterwards the disgust hit him again at full force, but at least for a little while he was able to vent his raging emotions.

Grimmjow watched Shuuhei as he stared off, his eyes returning to that dull shade he hated. When Grimmjow had first seen Shuuhei, he immediately disliked him. Something had reminded him of that bastard Tousen and he had wanted to tear Shinigami in half. But he had to restrain himself since he had to play prisoner while he waited for the chance to regain his lost pride. He hadn't cared that he was siding with the Shinigami; all he had wanted was another crack at Kurosaki. At the moment he had settled for exposing and exploiting Shuuhei's weaknesses.

However, Grimmjow was surprised at what he had found under Shuuhei's mask. Under Tousen's mask was a sad, pitiful man. Shuuhei, on the other hand, was a person running rampant with violence, bloodlust, pride, honor and a whole batch of passions that didn't mix. The kid must have suppressed so much of himself for so long that everything was blown out of proportion. Grimmjow started to wonder what Shuuhei would be like if he could settle his churning soul. That thought was probably his downfall.

He wasn't sure if it had been him or Shuuhei that made the first move. It started and ended quickly, each of them panting and not even close to being satisfied. Shuuhei was a beast, and Grimmjow couldn't help but indulge in the rare experience of having a partner that liked it rough and was able to keep up with him. But even if it was a mind-blowing experience, there was always a sinking feeling in his chest whenever he saw Shuuhei refill with self-hatred after they were done.

There was just something about Shuuhei that he liked. He wasn't sure if it was his suppressed personality or the possibility of what he could become. Or it might have been the fire in his eyes that Grimmjow so willingly brought out. The longer Grimmjow was with Shuuhei, the more he enjoyed his company.

Grimmjow hated the aura of despair that Shuuhei carried with him. He wanted to see him laughing, smirking, and strong. This Shinigami was his enemy, but all he wanted was to take his hand in his. The thought both sickened and excited him.

Grimmjow leaned down and fixed Shuuhei's clothing. He settled next to him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, ignoring the questioning eyes. He enfolded Shuuhei in his arms, wondering how long either of them could endure this.


End file.
